


Spiraling Up

by UsedDetour



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: (because how are they not ninjas in the mundane world), (but not much dramatic angst between our Malec), (without the marriage), AU, Actually learning to partner with another human, Angst, Aquaphobia, BAMF Alec Lightwood, BAMF Magnus Bane, Empathy, Eventual ninja warrior ties, Fightfightfight, Finding your person, Fluff, Lawyer!Alec (but not for long), M/M, Malec, Marriage of Convenience, Mental Health Issues, Sharing a Bed, Two strong guys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2020-09-01 22:00:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20265172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UsedDetour/pseuds/UsedDetour
Summary: When two lonely souls slip towards rock bottom but crash into each other before they reach the lowest depths, can they learn to prop each other up until they can stand solidly again?  (Hint: it's probably going to work out.  After many chapters.  Including a drunk!Alec club scene that wrote itself and almost shouldn't belong but totally does.)  (Also, they're going to be ninjas.)  (But seriously, this is not all fun and games.)  (Though some of it is.)Warnings for suicidal ideation, past character death, depression, anxiety, crappy pasts including homophobia and some melancholy mixed with small humor that is hopefully not tasteless.





	1. Heavy Waters

The water drew him in.

It was deep night now. The call was always worse in the overnight. He was not sure why, whether it was a tendency towards giving in to exhaustion once dark fully hit that made the compulsion harder to ignore, or perhaps that daylight acted as a partial barrier, drawing his eyes away from the water as much as it drew him back to the slight, sparkle-tipped waves surrounding New York.

Perhaps it was an eons-old genetic predisposition for mankind to allow their worst fears to ensorcel them in the overnight hours when growling predators once loomed outside caves, barely held off by dim, flickering firelight.

Walking through the darkened streets, he gave no thought to potential dangers that could come at him from the narrow, murky alleys he passed by, shoulders hunched in his leather jacket against the fall chill. 

He kept his eyes trained on glimpses of water as it peeked through the lifeless buildings, taunting him as it lured him. 

Failure, he heard it whisper, the streets acting as an echo chamber for the water’s wispy hiss. Failure.

His steps unconsciously soft-footed – he long ago learned to move without noise, ghosting along to avoid unnecessary disruptions – Alec continued forward as the city streets spat him out onto the mesmerizing waterfront. He was propelled forward by a buzz in the back of his head that he did not care to examine closely, a buzz that intensified greatly when he was at his empty apartment on nights such as these.

Urban light pollution blocked out many of the stars, but the moon was half-full and bright, small in the sky but ten times larger on the currently dead-still water of the East River. The eerie not-quite-dark bounding over and into the unending depths heightened the ethereal sense that there was another world below the calm surface. An alien world that might be entirely different from what he knew, or might be an alternate dimension achingly similar to this one but for a few small changes.

Was one of those options more alluring than the other?

Frightening. He meant, of course, which of those options was more frightening than the others.

Sure.

Looking away from the water for a moment as he struggled to retain his sense of dreamlike non-reality rather than get lost in a swirl of spiraling thoughts, he startled to a stop.

Not from a presence, but rather from a lack thereof. His feet had carried him near Granite Prospect. Never before had he seen it entirely devoid of people. It was seductive – the silence, the stillness, the anticipation the air sparked with, as though awaiting its usual dose of chattering action. 

The empty hush suited his mood. 

He resumed his soundless glide towards the water, only stopping once he reached the rail to rest both hands upon it, unsure and daringly uncaring what his next step might be. 

There were no boats on the river in front of him just now, no moving lights to draw his eye away. The water was black but not-black, the moonlight continuing its dance where water met air across the vast distance of the river’s deceptive surface. City lights bounced across anything that could hold a reflection, creating a preternatural glow that dripped from the sky itself.

The Brooklyn Bridge loomed ahead, a solid reminder of what humankind can build in this world, concrete and useful, but also a bright blight on the almost-darkness, garish its unnaturalness, popping out from the background of the city skyline behind it. His eyes traveled from the water up the long supports and onto the bridge itself, tilting his head slightly as he considered the angles, the intricate structure, the strong webbing that appeared to hold everything in place. 

Appearances such as that were deceiving, he knew. 

Nothing ever stayed safe or contained for long. 

Failure, the water whispered, cruel and amused.

But not wrong.

Restless, he moved slowly along the river bank, by turns flushing warm and then shivering at unexpected chills, one hand lightly skimming the filthy guard rail, eyes on the bridge, thoughts in the water.

“Who are you?” 

A lazy, lyrical voice slid through the silence, dancing with it rather than piercing it.

He did not jump at the voice, though his lack of reaction vaguely surprised him. Turning, he saw a dark-haired main lying length-wise along one of the wooden benches lining the waterfront, previously hidden from Alec’s view by the bench’s back and the shadows it threw.

He was not prone to hallucinations that he knew of, but took a moment to seriously consider if he might have upped his allotment of problems. It seemed possible. 

The form on the bench stretched and turned slightly, the lights from the path and the glow from the bridge now illuminating parts of him. 

Was it stranger that he was wearing what looked to be tight maroon leather pants? Or that the stretch, yawn, and rubbing at the corner of eyes strongly indicated he had been sleeping on this bench? In the middle of New York. In the deep of the night. Wearing what looked like hundreds if not thousands of dollars of flashy jewelry. And with meticulously gelled-up hair that was not indicative of a person with no place to call home.

Was this guy a moron?

Because it was so late, because the water was still calling him, and because he was so very tired on every level, Alec’s rather limited filter was completely offline. So he started his very first conversation with his mirage by irritably asking aloud, “Are you a moron?”

There was a momentary silence, followed by a musing, “You know, I’m not sure if moron is PC or not. Is it just rude? Or is it socially insensitive now? What is the etymology of moron?”

“I can use a different word,” Alec offered-threatened.

“I’ll answer your question if you answer mine.”

Somewhat against his will, his mouth blurted, “Alec.” Stupid mouth.

“Alec is too short for you. Though I suppose you might be classified as abrupt.” The other man sat up, peering in Alec’s direction. “No, I suspect a longer name for your elegant self.”

“Elegant?” Alec looked down at his black Henley and jeans. 

“Perhaps not your clothes, though you pull off the basics quite nicely. But you move gracefully.” Silence for another moment and then, “It’s Alexander, isn’t it? That suits you much better.”

Alec shrugged. “Whatever. Your turn.”

His dark-haired ghost shot up off the bench, coming closer. Who moved that fast and limber after sleeping on a hard bench? “Delighted! My name is Magnus Bane.” His hand shot out as if to shake, but Alec made a swatting motion, refusing.

“Your turn to answer to my question, not to introduce yourself.”

Magnus’ eyebrows rose. “You are persistent in your rudeness, I’ll give you that. I must admit I have done moronic things, but I do not believe I am consistently a moron. Why do you ask?”

“You look like a model.”

Another brief silence. “And models are morons?”

“You look like a successful model.”

Alec realized he was having some trouble with words.

Magnus, mere feet away now, cocked his head and narrowed his eyes, perhaps too polite to ask but clearly thinking if he might not be the moron in this conversation.

Alec sighed. Speaking was part of his damn job. This should not be so hard. “You look like a successful model with your fancy clothes and your shiny rings and ear cuff and necklaces. Shiny shoes. You look like money, and worse, you’re attractive. How could you fall asleep on a bench at one in the morning? Anyone could have come across you. You were a complete sitting duck.” He knew his tone came off as irritated, but didn’t care.

Magnus was staring back at him with an expression Alec could not readily identify.

“And why would you give a stranger your full name? Couldn’t you call yourself Gus or something?”

“Gus?” Magnus’ confident air had taken a hit. He looked uncertain now.

“What’s wrong with Gus? At least it’s not your actual name. You don’t know who I am, why would you expose yourself like that?”

“You’re Alexander, I got your name first, remember?”

“Sure, my first name. Which might have been a fake for all you know.”

“How do you know I didn’t give you a fake name?”

Alec rolled his eyes so hard the muscles behind them hurt.

“Is this a thing you do? Are you some kind of life artist? A sociology professor doing some kind of research? A writer? What’s the endgame here?”

Magnus was in the middle of trying to recover what Alec suspected was his usual mien of confident grace with a little swagger. “Couldn’t I have simply fallen asleep? Unintentionally?”

Alec glared a solid glare. “You do not seem like a tourist, and no New Yorker is going to accidentally fall asleep at one in the morning at a major tourist spot.”

Magnus set his shoulders back. “And what were you doing here exactly that was so different?”

“Not sleeping.”

“Your purpose, Alexander,” Magnus glared back, voice now seething.

“Just walking.”

“Walking at one in the morning in New York, through a popular tourist spot? Also not a common thing for a local to do, and I can hear the New York in your voice.”

“I can take care of myself. I’m awake and alert.”

“Oh, alert, are you?” Magnus drawled. “You didn’t see me until I spoke. And I’m not exactly subtle.” He gestured towards his bright attire. 

Alec’s glare progressed to a scowl. “It’s not like you got close to me. I would’ve seen you if you moved.”

“You were off in a daze, you wouldn’t have seen shit.”

“Excuse me?” Alec felt defensive now, his voice higher, which made him angrier. His stance widened, solidified.

Magnus smiled a not-nice smile. “I said,” he said slowly, “you wouldn’t have seen me, you were off in a daze, just as out of it as I was.”

“You were ASLEEP! How can you compare the two?”

“Ha, so you admit you were completely out of it!”

“I don’t admit anything of the kind!”

Magnus pushed a hand out towards him, palm open. He hissed slowly, “Your eyes were on the water. The water, then the bridge, then the water. I know where your mind was.”

His steely, ominous words dripped with accusation.

Alec stepped back, as though that hand had pushed a massive invisible force towards him. He opened his mouth to fire back, but his air was gone.

Magnus looked instantly regretful, which made it all worse. 

Because that meant he really did think that.

Turned out you could really be a failure at absolutely everything.

Alec’s left thumb found the palm of his right hand and he squeezed as hard as he could.

His dreamlike non-reality crashed around him, and he struggled to swim through the shards, barely breathing.

His eyes never left Magnus’.

He watched as Magnus’ expression turned from defensive anger to instant regret to guilty contrition, finally to something that looked more like what Alec felt.  
Shame, despair, pain, embarrassment.

Alec was torn. He wanted to run, but it seemed like just one more sign of weakness in an already humiliating moment.

He had no idea what Magnus saw on his face, but something solidified in the man’s gaze towards him. Hands lowering to his sides, Magnus made a little empty gesture. “You’re not entirely wrong. I was being something of a moron.”

Alec kept his eyes steady. It was all he has the strength to do. It was a significant effort.

Magnus fumbled a hand to the top of his left ear, playing with the silver cuff resting there. “I was walking, trying to shake off the day. Everything is just so damn exhausting. I thought I’d sit down for a while. I felt myself falling asleep and I just – ”

His words hung in the air.

“Didn’t care?” Alec offered quietly.

Magnus shrugged, his shoulders tense, protective. “Yeah, I guess.”

Their eyes both flicked back and forth, searching for something in the others’ stare. Right eye, left eye. Right, left. Right, left.

Magnus’ eyes were an unusual shade of brown, Alec noted distantly. Almost amber.

Magnus visibly squirmed, and said in a heavy tone lending reluctance to the words escaping, “I find it hard to imagine a future lately. Imagine one or care about one. I don’t even know what that means, really. But I don’t care about that either. It just seems so impossible.” He gestured widely and fluidly with his hands again, as though indicating the world itself was impossible.

He wasn’t wrong.

Alec hesitated, but the dreamlike sense of non-reality was still lurking at the edges of his mind, and mixed with the sudden vulnerability of the man in front of him, words escaped his dry lips that would otherwise never have had a voice. “I feel like I have no purpose.”

His insides quailed at the audacity of saying that aloud. Of saying it to another man. 

Magnus made a little inquiring noise at the back of this throat.

“I work, I’m a lawyer.”

“That doesn’t feel like a purpose?”

“No. It’s just a job.”

The air was heavy with all the words that hung unsaid between them still.

Magnus took a half-step forward, an encouragement to go on.

“It’s just…” Words failed again.

He failed.

Go figure.

Magnus shook his head. “It’s okay, Alexander.”

He looked like he meant it. That it was okay to be struck silent. And it was okay to keep talking. 

A solid wall inside of him melted. Pure fucking solid construction, just melted like a mudslide because a stranger stood in front of him, holding his gaze, not judging as he listened to the squalid, selfish awfulness that was the inside of Alec.

“It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid if it’s what you feel.”

That should have sounded trite. Why didn’t it?

Gazes still locked, more truths poured out of him. “I don’t have anyone to take care of anymore.”

Magnus blinked, looking startled. “Elaborate?”

Alec hunched in on himself, finally dropping his eyes to the ground. “I told you it sounds stupid.”

Mangus stepped a full step forward, within arms-length now. He reached out slowly, as if afraid to spook Alec, and rested a hand on Alec’s upper arm, gripping lightly but firmly. A solid tether to the world. “It’s not stupid. It was just unexpected. Unexpected is not bad. Often it’s good. Can you explain what you meant?”

Such a soft voice. So painfully soft.

“I’m the oldest of – the oldest of my siblings. My parents were gone. A lot. Most of the time. My siblings are reckless disasters. They’re not that much younger than me, but they’re so much younger than me, if that make sense.” He glanced back up, then back down.

“I kinda raised them? And when…shit went down with our parents, I moved out, got an apartment, and they moved in with me when they were still in high school. Got my degree, went to law school to get a good job to make sure I could support them, bailed them out of trouble, kept them moving forward.”

“And in my rapidly expanding mental vision of you, I imagine you also did most of the cleaning, paid most of the bills, took care of real life for them?”

Alec shrugged. “I wasn’t perfect, that’s for sure, but I was all they had. I owed it to them.”

Magnus lifted his other hand in an elaborate stopping motion. “OWED it to them?”

“They’re my siblings. And it was mostly my fault we weren’t living with our parents.”

“How do you figure that?”

“Told my parents I was gay. Got thrown out.” What Alec had almost referred to as a long story really wasn’t so long after all. That really was the gist of it.

“In what way was that your fault?” Magnus exclaimed incredulously, but hadn’t moved back, which eased Alec’s tight breathing.

“Coulda kept my mouth shut.”

“What the – no. Ok. We’ll deal with that later.” Magnus wrinkled his nose. “But just no. So your siblings are adults now and you have empty nest syndrome?”

“I – well that sounds even stupider than I thought. But I guess so. My brother is living with his fiancé now, and my sister just moved into her boyfriend’s apartment. I’m not sure I’d trust them to live alone, but they’re happy and safe with their…their partners in life, I guess. I feel like I have no one. That sounded dumb. Sorry.”

“No, I get it,” Magnus assured. “Not exactly the same, but my group of friends is almost entirely paired off. I’m one of two singles left. It’s not the same. I’m not saying I care about them any less, but once they pair off…”

“They don’t need you anymore,” Alec whispered, feeling exposed and ruined.

“And they don’t interact the same way anymore,” Magnus murmured, looking lost in thought. “It’s a lunch here, a text there, but they’re busy with their real family now.”

“Real family?”

“Sorry. Probably sensitive subject. I don’t have any. Family, that is.” Magnus stumbled a little, awkward with this admission. “So when they go off to start their families…”

“You feel left behind.”

A shrug. “I suppose I do. And everyone who’s left is pretty much…no, that’s not fair.” Magnus shook his head violently, as though trying to rid himself of impure thoughts.

“Hey.” Alec focused his eyes again, locked in on amber, and he reached a hand up to cover the be-ringed hand Magnus still had on his arm. “You’re standing in the middle of empty space in the dark with a stranger at probably two in the morning now while we both word vomit emotions. I think you should just say whatever comes to mind, you know?” He felt a corner of his mouth lift up. Less a real smile, more a token of encouragement.

Magnus stared at him for a moment and edged closer. “It’s selfish as shit, Alexander.”

“I doubt that’s really true, but even if it is, who am I going to tell? The river?”

Magnus frowned, hard. “Not funny, pretty boy.”

Something low in Alec’s stomach twisted. “A little funny.”

Thankfully, Magnus continued. “They just all want something. I’m so tired of everyone coming after me because they want help, they want to vent, they want money, they want me to fix everything for them. They don’t even observe the social niceties any more. No ‘How are you, Magnus?’ ‘How was your weekend, Magnus?’ Just demand after demand. I don’t even have conversations with most of them anymore; if I talk, they’re not listening. It’s made me a little…outrageous in some of my behaviors, I have to admit, and I wasn’t entirely subtle to begin with.”

Alec was quiet, absorbing, which seemed to make Magnus nervous. “See, selfish. You’re standing here telling me you desperately miss having someone to take care of, and I’m telling you about how much I hate taking care of everyone around me.”

Alec was quick to shake his head. “It’s not the same. I love my sister and my brother. It’s not work, I want to do it. For them, and because it makes me feel secure to be needed. And if I ever did need them, I know they’d be there, even if it’s not our usual dynamic. They love me, too. Even on dark days I have no doubt of that. What you’re describing sounds more like leeches.”

“YES. Leeches.” Magnus huffed. “So much sucking.”

Alec ghosted a smile, and Magnus tried a little one as well.

More words fell out of Alec’s mouth. “So we could solve half of both our problems if you let me take care of you, hmm?” 

It slipped out. He didn’t think about it, it just came out.

Magnus went completely still. 

Alec almost panicked.

But then, he didn’t.

Because really.

Why the fuck not?

Again because of filter problems, Alec looked up quizzically and said, “Actually, why the fuck not?”

Magnus still hadn’t moved.

Alec wasn’t sure he was breathing.

Always good under pressure once he made his mind up about something, Alec squared his shoulders. “What are we doing here, Magnus? Here by the river. Staring into the water like it’s where home is, sleeping at the waterfront. At this rate, we’re going to end up back here again, alone, and we’re not going to get back out one day. What have we got to lose at this point?” He moved his hand from atop Magnus’ to slide up his opposite shoulder, to the curve of his neck. 

Magnus’ eyes were impossibly large. “What do we have to lose,” he repeated.

Alec’s grip tightened. 

Magnus shook himself visibly, regaining composure. “This is an interesting idea. But I have some questions. And conditions.”

Alec nodded. “Go on.” Probably he should be terrified right now. 

“How do you feel about your apartment?”

Alec’s face tightened. “I’ve actually been trying to get up the courage to sell it. It’s a big space for New York, and I own it outright, but…memories attached. But it’s too big for me, too dead inside now.” He stumbled at the end over his own words, almost revealing more than he could have handled.

Magnus brightened. “Why don’t you come stay at my place for a while?”

“Uh?” Alec offered. 

“I have a great loft in Brooklyn, great living space, two bedrooms. You can have the guest room…or you can sleep with me, entirely at your preference.” Magnus looked hopeful.

“Why?” Alec asked, partly because it was a valid question, and partly to buy himself time to absorb the concept.

“You can get some distance from your place, see if you can separate from the memories and stand to sell it like you’ve been thinking. And we’ll be… Look, I work long hours, and I’m sure you do too. If we’re going to try this we can’t be ghosts passing each other for ten minutes a day. We need to actually spend some time together.”

Alec’s brain was still a few second behind what was happening, which resulted in another not-thought-out comment that his mouth probably intended as sarcasm. “I hate my job, why don’t I just come work with you, too?”

Magus lit up.

Like he seriously lit up like a fucking Christmas tree.

“Would you really, Alexander?”

No, Alexander really would not. Is what he meant to say. But what he said was, “I don’t even know what you do.”

“I own a gym nearby. We’re actually looking for instructors and trainers. We’re short-staffed in pretty much every aspect, actually. I’m sure we could find a place for you. Do you have any vacation time to take, for a trial run?”

Trial run.

See, that was deceptive.

Because it made everything seem less impossible. Doable, maybe.

Which meant he was really thinking about this.

About moving in with a man he met sleeping on a park bench and giving up a lucrative job as a lawyer – that he’d studied seven years for – to what, mop floors in a gym?

But if it was just for a couple of weeks… 

“I haven’t taken most of my vacation days in three years. I have six weeks saved up.”

“Fabulous! Will they let you take it on short notice?”

Magnus seemed insistent on taking Alec’s breath from his very lungs.

Now. They were doing this now.

Alec’s hand fell from Magnus’ neck back to his own, rubbing in shock and in thought. “Not vacation per se. But if I say it’s for health reasons…they just got sued by another lawyer who they fired for being gone for medical reasons so they might be more willing given the bad press they got.”

“Well that sounds like a lovely place to work.”

“Yeah, they’re horrible. I could say I need medical leave? But if they try to verify, I have nothing.”

“Mental health is part of your overall health, Alexander. And it seems like we could both use a change in that regard.”

Alec nodded slowly. “Why am I not afraid of getting fired? If they did come after me, I don’t even know if I care.”

“Because you hate it there. Because you don’t have to support your siblings anymore. Because you can probably live off the sale of your apartment for some time if you need to. And because you’re depressed, darling. The not caring comes with it.” Magnus’ eyes looked both bright and sad at the same time.

Alec tried to think what he’d do if Jace or Izzy decided to move in with a stranger, quit their careers, and basically quit their sanity as a result of one conversation with a probable hallucination at two in the morning.

He resolved not to tell Jace and Izzy about that part of this situation.

Ever.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay, yeah.” Alec agreed to turn his entire life over and shake what was left to see what fell out.

Magnus did the lighting up like Christmas thing again for a moment, then dimmed considerably. “One important question. This could be a significant problem.”

Alec looked at him questioningly. “Please don’t tell me you’re living with someone. Or married. Or married and living with someone else.”

“No, no, nothing like that. But I do need to know if you hate cats. Or are allergic.”

Alec felt a tiny, surprised grin steal across his face. “Same question.”

Magnus bounced. He bounced. “You have a cat?”

“Sort of.”

“How do you sort of have a cat?? Please do not tell me you let your cat roam New York. It’s too dangerous to let them out in the city.”

“Inside only. He just wasn’t mine originally. He was – someone couldn’t take care of him anymore, and I agreed to look after him. He’s as surly as me, only ever liked his previous owner. He tolerates me.”

“We’re going to be cat dads, Alexander. We’re going to be cat dads together! We can get cute aprons that say that.” The speed at which Magnus could change emotions was overwhelming. Overwhelming, but addicting.

“I have no idea how to respond to that.”

Magnus pointed a finger straight at him with a serious face. “Aprons or mugs are cute. Do not get shirts that say things like that. Not cute. Do you understand?”

Alec nodded, because what else was appropriate?

They stared at each other.

This was happening.


	2. Anxiety and Giggle-Shivers.  Hot Damn.

They walked side-by-side, careful not to touch but never more than an arm’s length away. Though Alec did not know the way to Magnus’ loft yet, somehow they were in sync, equal in their steps. It did not feel like one man leading the other.

There were so many questions they should be asking, so many details to sort out, so many reasons they should not be moving forward with this insane idea.

Not only did Alec find himself not asking, he found himself not caring. Either a wrenching decision to change everything would work or it wouldn’t. And if he was literally being led to the slaughter by a beautiful stranger with hypnotic movements, he wasn’t sure he gave a shit.

They walked in companionable silence, shooting sidelong glances at each other, sometimes catching the other’s eye for a moment in the glowing yellow light of a street lamp as the paced through the quiet Brooklyn streets.

It was after three in the morning when Magnus gestured to a particular brick building and unlocked the side entrance, starting up several flights of stairs. 

They hadn’t said a word the entire walk there.

Now that Magnus was unlocking his front door and gesturing that they go inside, Alec felt a beat of uncertainty. When Magnus had suggested they check out the loft together to see if the space presented any problems for cohabitation, it had seemed like the next logical step.

There was that sneaky shit again. Applying what seemed like logic to an illogical situation to make himself feel like this wasn’t a batshit idea. 

He paused outside the door.

Magnus stood in the doorway, drawing himself up straight when he saw the other man’s hesitation. 

Alec recognized the stiff posture, the upward tilt of chin, the steady gaze. It was the look of a man stating he didn’t need you. He didn’t need anything. He was strong enough on his own.

For Alec, it was usually a defensive move, but he felt sure this was Magnus trying to let him off the hook. Telling him he was fine on his own if this didn’t work out.

And maybe he was. It’s not like they knew each other’s lives. Tonight could be a momentary blip on the radar, they could be otherwise solidly productive, healthy people. Happy people.

Sure.

It was Magnus’ silent willingness to put up that front and let him go that had Alec striding through the doorway, hesitation gone.

He walked through a short hallway and into the living area, eyebrows raising of their own accord.

“This is nice, Magnus. Big space, feels homey.” He eyed the huge windows, an accent in the dark but surely magnificent in the sunlight. Furniture and knickknacks were strewn everywhere, of different styles but somehow harmonious, belonging together.

Magnus, drifting after, blinked as though surprised. “No one’s ever called it homey before. Eclectic usually. Gaudy, once.”

Alec suspected he did not like some (or many) of Magnus’ friends. “Does it feel like a home to you?”

After a pause that seemed to indicate the other man was taking the question seriously – and had never been asked that before, Alec noted – “Yes. This is my first real home.”

Alec shrugged. “Good, then.”

“Good?” Magnus echoed, in the tone Alec was learning indicated he was thrown off his normal confident demeanor. 

“Yeah. Means it was the right choice to choose your place over my apartment.” He forcefully stopped the thought there.

Magnus blinked again, then the left side of his mouth quirked up in pleasure or amusement – or both – as he brushed past Alec, bumping arms with him in a completely unnecessary fashion given the size of the room they were in.

He grabbed a small Ziploc bag from the top of a high bookshelf and shook it, prompting a small furry bullet to zoom straight to him from behind the large, plush maroon couch. Spilling some treats into his hand before putting the bag back, he lifted up a tiny black cat, letting it eat from his palm.

“This is Chairman Meow,” he intoned in a serious voice.

Alec had perhaps forgotten what amusement felt like. 

It felt good.

“Of course it is,” he said in the same tone. Striding forward, he looked for permission before reaching out a hand for the Chairman to sniff.

Huge green eyes opened to regard him before the cat jumped straight in the air and zoomed off in another direction.

Alec jerked his hand back. “Sorry, did I startle him?”

“No, just a mood. He runs around like that quite a bit. Cat Things to do, I guess.” His voice was fond and mildly annoyed, how Alec suspected he himself sounded when he talked about Jace.

The cat’s abrupt departure left them standing near to each other, a phenomenon Alec was already learning was dangerous for his ability to censor thoughts. Thus, “So, you’re gay?”

Stupid. Stupidstupidstupid.

Magnus looked delighted. “Bi. Is that a problem?” 

“No. Just…checking.”

Magnus laughed with his eyes, but apologized with his hands, waving open palms between them. “Good to know. But just to be clear, I didn’t bring you back here for sex.” He leaned in closer. “At least not tonight.” Turning, he walked to a side bar, fiddling with the stopper of a glass decanter, eyes on the patterned rug below him. “While I’m not opposed to the idea…at all…I fail to see how that wouldn’t just end up a one night stand.” He suddenly looked up, eyes narrowed as if he was confused by his internal thoughts. “And I’m not joking about this.”

He didn’t define this, but Alec knew what he meant.

This ridiculous attempt to get out of an exhausting rut.

This small chance to make things better.

This actual, tentative connection to another human. 

Alec wanted to say these things, to acknowledge them. But it was too much, too soon. So he resorted to the word that got him into this situation in the first place. 

“Okay.”

The corners of Magnus’ eyes crinkled as they stared at each other, Magnus with a smile, seemingly comfortable, and Alec with a cool demeanor despite his racing heart.

This was uncomfortable.

Not for the reasons it should be. But because it felt heavy. It felt like it mattered.

He ruined things that mattered.

He started to feel some spark of hope again, and that was the most dangerous feeling of all.

He cleared his throat. “I should go.”

Magnus rocked back like he’d been slapped across the face.

Alec clarified, “I’m going to go into work, update the summaries of my open cases, pass off what I can, talk to the partners.”

“It’s almost four in the morning,” Magnus pointed out.

Alec shrugged. He’d worked through the night before, and there was always someone working at the firm regardless of the hour. He continued his thought, “After, I should stop by my place, pack a bag, grab Church – the cat.”

Magnus nodded slowly. “Do what you need to. I’ll see you back here – tonight?”

He didn’t look like he believed it would happen.

That was the best – or worst – thing Alec could have seen at that moment. It solidified his decision tenfold. 

This plan wasn’t just for him. It didn’t have to be for him at all. It was for Magnus. 

Even if he couldn’t save his own future, he could try to improve someone else’s.

Alec’s exhaustion cut through his normal inhibitions and carried him forward. He reached out with his right hand, cupping the other man’s jaw and stroking his cheek with his thumb, Magnus frozen in place.

“Tonight,” he repeated firmly.

Before he could allow himself to regret that rash gesture, he turned and walked out of the loft, pulling the door shut behind him, and striding resolutely towards his office.

Decision made.

**

As the clock passed eleven and headed closer to midnight, Magnus berated himself for putting such foolish hopes into a sleep-deprived conversation with a complete stranger. Of course Alec wouldn’t come back. What sane person would move in with a stranger for some half-assed plan to cure their mutual mental malaise by each other’s mere presence? 

His lips curved down at the thought of his first glimpse of Alexander along the river last night. He did not like how those pretty hazel eyes had studied the water last night, then the bridge, then back to the water as though there were a solution to be found there. Hypocrisy aside, the thought made the back of his throat crawl with dread. How could he not have insisted on exchanging phone numbers? At the very least he could have text-pestered until he knew Alec was ok tonight.

Relatively ok.

Alive.

Magnus realized he was pacing, sharp turns back and forth across his living space, the Chairman watching his movements from the sofa with deceptively lazy eyes.

Could he even find Alec if he never heard from him? He had a first name, a neighborhood, a profession, and a cat named Church. Google was good, but that wasn’t much to go on in New York.

His mind spun. It was stupid not to get something else. A last name, the name of a firm, his address, a phone number. How could he have been so careless? Alec could be hurt, could be in need of help, and no one else would even be looking.

His steps picked up as his thoughts did, spiraling around faster and faster as the air seemed to warm around him. 

He could hire a private detective. He knew Alec had passed the bar in New York and that he worked in Manhattan. Unless he’d graduated at an obscenely early age, he had to be at least 27 or 28 if he’d been working at the same firm for three years, probably no more than 30 or 31…surely someone with access to person-finding software could use that to cross-reference with vet bills for cats and locate him, or a very small list of people fitting those parameters?

Was person-finding software a thing?

He pulled his phone from his pocket and started Googling detectives near Brooklyn. His shoulders felt tight and weighed down. 

This was his fault. He jumped in too soon again, scared the other man away. If he’d not been so forward, so out there, maybe Alec would have felt comfortable enough to at least share his phone number. 

It was so hot in the loft. Hard to breathe, almost.

Could he call a private detective this late at night? They probably had receptionists and normal business hours. Or maybe they were nocturnal. Didn’t they spend a lot of time tracking cheating lovers? Surely most cheating happened late at night. Sneaky things were aided by nighttime. But then again a private eye would probably not want to have their ringer on if they were creeping after a cheater trying to get a picture.

Mind racing in too many directions now, he tried typing in “Alec lawyer new york cat church pretty” but the results were farm from useful. 

He didn’t even know what kind of law Alec practiced. What a stupid thing not to have asked.

He threw his phone on the bar cart as his pacing quickened, running a hand through his hair in an uncharacteristically uncaring move. Maybe he should go back to the river? But there was so much waterfront in New York, it would be impossible to cover it all. 

Still. He could at least check where they met last night. Maybe that spot had special meaning.

There was a knock at the door.

Magnus stopped in his tracks, staring at the door. After a moment of blankness, he threw himself at the door, half expecting to see Raphael.

The extra-wide wooden door opened to reveal a tired-looking Alec.

Magnus’ heart stopped. 

He wasn’t being dramatic, it really felt as if his heart went from 200 beats a minute to actually stopping for a long, long moment.

Alec shifted uncomfortably, both hands full.

“Sorry! Sorry. I wasn’t sure if you were actually coming,” Magnus blurted out, not so smoothly as he’d have liked.

Alec’s posture tensed. “Did you change your mind? It’s fine if you did, this wasn’t exactly –”

“No.” Magnus said firmly, grabbing him by the elbow and pulling him inside, shutting the door.

He was grimly satisfied that he had hold of Alec now. He could see him, prove to himself everything was okay. 

Hopefully Alec didn’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon. If he did, he’d have a Magnus-sized accessory to drag with.

Though. Given the backpack slung over one shoulder, a suitcase in one hand and the cat carrier in the other, it didn’t seem as though Alec was plotting on fleeing soon, though the uncertain look on the other man’s face belied his sherpa-like actions.

Magnus slid his hand down Alec’s arm, taking the suitcase from his hand and setting it on the floor. Alec looked uncomfortable, but let him. 

Suddenly remembering his recent hands-through-hair worrying, Magnus pulled back a bit, unsure how frazzled he looked and wanting to distract until he could check out the damage in a mirror. 

“This is Church?” he tried, peering in the carrier. 

Alec made an affirming noise. “I’m not sure how he is with other animals. I’m a little worried. I brought his food and stuff but wasn’t sure about a litter box - ?”

That very mundane question calmed the rest of Magnus’ nerves almost instantly. 

Alec was really planning on trying this.

He was here.

He showed up.

This was positively domestic.

And there were pure logistics to work out. Even better.

Magnus was surprisingly good with logistics.

True smile restored, he whirled around, gesturing vaguely in two directions. “I already have two litter boxes tucked out the way. Let’s see how the boys do with two for now?”

Alec nodded, set the carrier down on the floor, then looked up questioningly. “Do I let him out now? Or do the thing where we put one of them in a locked room for a few days?”

“I’m sure that would be the more intelligent thing to do, but I’m curious to see what happens. Let him out, if you don’t mind?”

Alec must’ve agreed, as he bent over and opened the wire mesh door of the gray plastic carrier. Three heartbeats later, a rather hefty longhaired brown tabby cat with a displeased countenance emerged.

They watched in silence for a moment as Church stalked around the apartment, then sat down near the couch. Magnus did not know cats could huff in annoyance, but this one pulled it off without problem.

Magnus fidgeted, wanting to address something now in case this tentatively wonderful experiment ended quickly.

“I realized that in my muddle of panic and excitement the other night, I may have been misleading in one aspect of this arrangement,” Magnus said tentatively.

Alec straightened, walls back up.

Magnus waved his hands in a negative motion. “Nothing untoward. But I need you to understand, when you said our problems could be solved by you taking care of me –”

Alec’s stance softened. “It’s ok, Magnus. I know nothing’s that simple. We can’t fix everything with this – whatever this is. I don’t expect you to be perfect. I don’t expect either of us to be instantly happy.”

Why were his eyes so unfairly beautiful? “Well, yes. That’s something we should discuss, I suppose. But it’s not what I meant.” 

Magnus feared his next words could break off this entire plan, could fracture the rare and elusive hope he’d felt all day. But he feared not saying them even more. “Two things, really. One, I don’t really know how to be taken care of, so if I get that part wrong, please be patient with me.”

Alec smiled a small, dopey smile that Magnus couldn’t look away from. 

“And two…” the dangerous one. “It can’t just be you taking care of me.”

Alec cocked his head, perplexed. “You need something else?”

“No. Well, yes. I mean you need to let me take care of you, too.”

You’d think most people would want to hear something like that. Or would take it as nothing, just words, and slide by it.

Alec looked like he’d been sucker punched in the stomach. His features screwed up and he stepped back twice, reflexively.

Magnus followed, but didn’t touch. “I’m not pushing. I’m not pushing anything. But I was in a terrible relationship where I did all the taking care of, and it wasn’t healthy. It wasn’t good for either of us.” He paused for a deep breath and held Alec’s eyes. This was important. “I don’t want that for us. I don’t want to start everything with an imbalance just because I’m tired all the time. Just because it would be easy to take advantage of you.”

Alec hadn’t fled, so Magnus kept going, kept making his case. “I want to know if you have a bad day. I want to know if you’re worried or mad – or happy, for that matter. We should work out problems together, and we should celebrate together.”

Alexander shifted from foot to foot, eyes hooded, looking lost. “Together?”

Magnus braved the two steps forward it took to bring him to tall, dark and stupid handsome. He rested the flat of his hand on Alec’s chest. “I’m sure we’re both going to have a learning curve here. But, as you so eloquently said, why the fuck not, right? We should try. I actually want to try. I haven’t felt the energy to try much of anything for a long time. I want to take care of you, too. Not because you asked me to, but because I suspect you never would.”

It hurt to say honest things out loud. Had it always hurt, or was that a more recent development?

Alec surprised him by bringing a hand up to Magnus’ chest, mirroring his position. Face morphing from pained confusion to determination, he said merely, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Magnus repeated stupidly.

Alec nodded. “Okay. I’ll try.”

Magnus was increasingly certain he had died on that park bench, and Alec was his fermenting, dying brain’s last attempt at creating a happy world.

But oh, what a happy world it had the potential of being.

Their close proximity did not have a chance to become awkward, as the Chairman chose that moment to make himself known, pouncing on Church from behind the sofa. Alec tensed as though he’d have to separate them, but Church completely ignored the tiny ball of fluff that was batting at him from behind, looking at Alec with an irritated countenance.

“I should feed him, if that’s ok,” Alec said with a real smile, disengaging from Magnus’ personal space.

Shame.

All four of them ambled into the kitchen together, where Alec took out the packed food and bowls stashed in his backpack. Magnus grabbed the Chairman and held him still against his chest while the large cat ate in peace. They’d need to talk about separate feeding stations tomorrow.

But there was a different question on Magnus’ mind for tonight.

Another question he was nervous to ask.

Alexander was here, he reminded himself. He showed up. That was what was really important. Everything else after this…gravy.

Well. Exquisite sauce of some kind. He didn’t much care for gravy.

He was so elated this was happening. But he was also so very, very tired. Both in an emotional sense but also a physical one; he’d had very little sleep last night aside from the disturbing nap on the bench, and Alec hadn’t slept at all.

So the question couldn’t be avoided much longer.

Alec’s sensible black suitcase was screaming behind them by the door, wanting to be moved.

Magnus stuck his nose in the Chairman’s soft fur, nuzzling. He caught Alec watching, and felt a spark of hope.

But this was stupid hope; he was jumping into things too fast again, searching too desperately for instant answers to all of life’s problems. 

Wasn’t he?

He had no idea what Alexander was thinking.

Then Alec surprised Magnus yet again by broaching the subject himself in the bluntest way possible. “Where am I sleeping tonight?”

Magnus’ throat locked for a moment, he swallowed but it still took a moment to regain a semblance of function. He gestured to one side of the apartment. “There’s a guest room on that side with its own bathroom if you prefer. Or.” He gestured the opposite direction. “We can share the master.”

This was unhinged. 

He couldn’t be almost-not-quite propositioning the man he met just last night.

But then again, it wasn’t like he’d never had a one-night stand. How was this different? Strangers in his space, trusting strangers with his place, his things, his body. Trusting or not caring, either way.

So how was this different?

It wasn’t for one night, that was how. If he screwed something up, it wouldn’t be magically fixed in the morning by the other person bailing.

At least he hoped not.

Alec looked to be waiting, but Magnus was unsure what for. “Do you have a preference? You’re giving up your space to come here, I don’t want to dictate where you go within this apartment. It’s your home now, too. You should sleep where you’re comfortable.”

Alec stared at him intently. “But what do you want?”

“I want whatever you want, Alexander.”

Alec made a rude noise. “I’ll make my own decision. But before I do, I want to know what you want.”

Magnus couldn’t take the intensity of the other man’s regard suddenly, and busied himself straightening an already organized kitchen, the Chairman still tucked under one arm. 

“I am not opposed,” he said slowly as he turned all the spices so the labels were facing outward, “to you sleeping in the master.”

“That’s good to know,” Alec said with both patience and impatience in his tone. Perhaps one learned to do that when one had younger siblings. “But it’s not what I asked.”

Sighing, Magnus tried again to express what he meant without making a request Alexander might feel the need to comply with. “It might be nice to share a bed with someone regularly. It’s been a while. But I’m far more invested in making sure you’re here in the apartment in a general sense than in the same room as me all the time. I understand the need for personal space.”

Did he though? He was trying to. He did with other people.

He stole a glance at Alexander, standing tall and thoughtful as he watched Magnus struggle one-handed to cram the toaster back into the cabinet that it very rarely lived in.

In a very interesting choice, Alec moved forward not to take the appliance, but rather to pluck the Chairman out of Magnus’ arm and scratch under his scruffy chin with long, strong fingers. “Let’s try the same bed.”

The lump in Magnus’ throat fell down through his stomach and into his groin.

“But sleeping,” Alec said, restoring reality. Or some version thereof. “With clothes on.”

Right. Okay. They were security blankets for each other. Sticking together. This was still fabulous. He could roll with this.

“For now.”

Magnus almost melted to the floor. He was 90% certain Alec had no idea what effect he had, that this wasn’t an intentional tease. 

But hot damn.

Magnus nodded and spun on one heel, marching back to the door to grab Alec’s suitcase and heading towards his bedroom.

Their bedroom.

Was he too old to get the giggle-shivers? Probably he was just tired.

He stopped suddenly, turning with a frown. “I didn’t even ask you, I’m so sorry. How did everything go at your office? Were you able to get the time off?”

“It wasn’t a pleasant conversation, but yeah, it worked. I’m on medical leave, and I don’t think they’ll throw a fit until my six weeks of vacation are used up. I finished up two of the cases on my desk and summarized and moved four others to different attorneys, so at least I don’t feel like I screwed someone over, you know?”

“I never asked, what kind of law have you been practicing there?”

“Corporate, mostly.” Alexander sounded dismissive, unimpressed with himself, as though becoming a lawyer in New York wasn’t a worthy accomplishment.

They’d have to come back to that at some point. To so many things. But hopefully, they’d have the time to do that.

Magnus turned and entered the bedroom, snapping the lights on.

Alec followed, eyebrows raised. “This is massive for New York. You could fix six people in that bed.”

Magnus shrugged, mentally shifting items around to make room for Alec’s things. “Would you say you have a lot of clothing for us to move over?”

Alec huffed a laugh. “Definitely not. To my sister’s despair.”

Something else to work on. “Should I ask if you need a lot of room in the bathroom for product?”

A derisive snort followed.

“Please do not tell me you use Axe body wash.”

Alec crossed his arms with a small glare.

Oops. 

He changed his tune. “I could get used to Axe body wash.” 

Ungh. “Eventually.”

Though…”Would you even notice if I replaced it? What brand of shampoo do you use?”

Alec’s glare intensified, but it seemed like there might be some amusement in the quirk of his mouth within the defensive move. “Grocery store. It’s green.”

Magnus started a dignified nod, but couldn’t do it. He fake-gagged instead and stumbled back, holding onto the dresser for mock support. “I feel so bad for your hair,” he whispered. “And your poor skin. What did it ever do to make you hate it so much?”

His attempt at getting his new companion to laugh seemed promising for a moment until Alexander’s face tightened, stoic. “I am not overly fond of the skin I’m in or what lies beneath.”

He looked startled by his own admission, turning to pace the room and glance in the bathroom.

Another thing Magnus wanted to address, but it was surely too soon. Trying to lighten the mood again seemed too much like dismissing those words, so he did the only thing he could think of.

He said the most vulnerable thing that came to mind.

“I was anxious that you weren’t going to come back tonight,” he said to an empty room.

Alexander’s head popped back out of the bathroom, body following a second later.

Magnus couldn’t bring himself to say the things that had raced through his head. But he could push this a little further. 

He turned abruptly and left the room, grabbed his phone off the bar cart, and turned again to go back to the bedroom, only to realize Alec had followed.

Closely.

Magnus stilled himself just before they collided. He thrust his hand out, holding his phone. Face expressionless, he semi-explained, “I didn’t have your number. Your last name. Where you work. Your address.”

Alexander’s expression lightened, eyes understanding what Magnus had not directly said. He took Magnus’s phone deftly, and entered his number in, then handed it back.

Across the inch and a half of space that separated them.

“Here’s my number. My last name is Lightwood. I worked at Herondale & Aldertree until today, though I’m not sure I’m going back.” He paused. “I live here.”

Magnus took his phone back slowly, shaken but not ready to show it. “I was able to clear my schedule tomorrow. I thought we could go back to your old apartment, get more of your things, decide if you want to list it right away to see what kind of interest it generates, or if you want to think about it for a while?”

“Sounds good.” His voice and expression betrayed nothing of what he was feeling about selling the home he’d raised his siblings in after his parents threw him out for the most ignorant of reasons.

As Magnus searched Alexander’s face, he realized that his brief flings were often more with men than women, but almost all of his attempts at an actual relationship were with women. Perhaps, he thought now, because they tended to express themselves better. Because there was often less guessing as to what they were feeling.

But.

Animated and theatrical as he often was, he realized that in this moment, he felt somehow closer to Alec for their shared experience of being men.

Of having been taught from the crib that they shouldn’t ever be vulnerable.

That they were strong. And had to be strong all the time.

That openly expressing most emotions was not strong, that not being strong was weak, and that weakness was not only unattractive, but also disgusting.

Ergo, that expressing something like vulnerability or shame was disgusting.

He didn’t want to feel like that anymore, but he didn’t know how to stop it.

It was such a relief to feel like he was understanding someone despite that. That someone else might understand him despite that. To know what a small gesture meant, underneath. Handing over a phone for a number, obsessively straightening the kitchen, holding a door open with a stiff posture.

Sleeping on a park bench in the middle of the night.

Maybe they could find their own language, words when they could, and – he looked down at the phone they both still held on to – this dialect of gestures when they could not handle the words.


	3. Gleaming Colorlessly in the Grayscale of the Night

They returned to the bedroom in silence, both dragging from the lack of sleep the previous night and from countless restless nights in past months.

Magnus pondered if exhaustion could be considered a boon in their current unique situation, as it likely made getting ready for bed less awkward. Neither of them had enough energy to get worked up or truly weirded out.

He trudged into the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth, then headed straight back out without dawdling. “Shower?” he offered. “I took one when I got home today.”

Alec nodded and tipped his suitcase to the floor so he could rifle through it better, pulling out a raggedy-looking dark blue tee and gray sweatpants. “I didn’t actually think to pack shampoo or anything. I can use yours - ?” he questioned, voice rough with fatigue.

“I think I might prefer that over your grocery store product,” Magnus said without thinking. Abruptly, he realized that could be taken as an insult rather than the mild sass he intended and prepared to apologize, but Alec merely wrinkled his nose and headed for the bathroom, shutting the door softly. 

Magnus considered his night wear options. He didn’t like the restrictions of wearing a shirt to sleep, but didn’t want to make his new roommate uncomfortable, so he split the difference and pulled out a plum-colored sleeveless t-shirt and black drawstring pants. 

He absolutely did not intentionally avoid the soft orange gym tee that would clash horribly with the tone of Alec’s shirt.

Absolutely not.

He ducked into the large walk-in closet and changed there, just in case Alec came out for something. Surprisingly, the shower shut off a moment later, not five minutes after it had turned on. He had just enough time to walk over and sit on the edge of the bed when the bathroom door opened and a delightfully fresh and damp Alec emerged.

“Are you ex-military or something? Who takes a four-minute shower?”

Alexander shrugged, “Always rushing, always jostling with Jace and Izzy for bathroom space, just got fast at it I guess.”

“I worry that means you don’t take the time to enjoy it.”

“It’s a shower. It’s functional. What’s there to enjoy?”

First thing tomorrow, he was going to find an empty notebook and start a list of things they needed to discuss at some point. That concerning concept was going to be very near the top of the list.

Alec was still standing by the bathroom door, and Magnus worried he had changed his mind about the sleeping arrangements. “Problem?” he asked softly, not wanting to spook the other man.

Shifting his weight from foot to foot, Alexander paused, then blurted out, “I put my dirty clothes in the hamper in the bathroom.”

Magnus waited for more, but none seemed forthcoming, so he nodded. “That seems like a logical place to put them.” Why was he being uncomfortable about a hamper? Had he seen something weird in there?

Oh shit. Was there something gross in there? Magnus scanned his memory, searching for anything embarrassing he may have thrown in recently.

“It felt…” Alec trailed off.

Magnus wanted to be able to reach out and pull the words out. Felt? What textures were on hampers?

Was there mold? 

“It felt presumptuous,” Alec cleared his throat. “Intimate. To use someone else’s hamper?” He avoided Magnus’ eyes, gaze moving restlessly around the room, hands clasped behind his back like he was trying not to touch anything. 

Magnus sighed. He really had not wanted to get up from the bed he’d just finally settled down on. But his new cohab needed something, and damn if Magnus wasn’t going to provide it. He walked around the bed to the other side and swept the loose jewelry covering the nightstand on that side into his palm, quickly sliding the drawer open to make sure there was nothing embarrassing in there.

Thankfully not. 

He rounded the bed again and dumped his jewelry into the sky blue Limoges bowl on his own nightstand. Pulling back the thick comforter, he sat on the edge of the bed and pointed towards the other, now cleaned, side. “Is that side okay for you?”

Alec shrugged.

Magnus was too tired to draw this out into a polite little conversation about sharing. He pointed again, this time at Alexander directly. “What did you tell me ten minutes ago? About where you live?”

Alec’s expression turned resolute. “I live here now.”

Magnus nodded and pointed at the opposite side of the bed again. “Then that is your bedside table. That is your side of the bed, and that,” he waved towards the bathroom, “is our hamper. Your hamper. You should use it for hamper things. It will get sad if you don’t use it. It will think it is a bad hamper. Do you want that?”

Magnus thought he saw a twitch in the other man’s face that may have indicated a slight smile. 

“No, I do not want to make the hamper feel unloved,” he stated, stone-faced. “Clearly I did not consider the ramifications of my almost non-actions on the hamper’s emotional state.”

“Damn straight,” Magnus muttered, smiling, as he slid his legs up and under the deliciously crisp sheets.

Alec moved to rifle through his suitcase once more, coming up with a charger and walked over to plug his phone in. On his night stand. Then he pulled back the comforter on his side of the bed and slipped in, lying back stiffly against the many pillows. “This is weird, though, right?”

Magnus leaned back as well, pleased. “Weird is different. Sometimes different is needed. Therefore weird can be good.”

Several emotions flashed across Alexander’s face before his eyebrows rose. “Weird can be good,” he repeated, sounding surprised as he met Magnus’ eyes. For a second, he flashed the most heartbreakingly beautiful grin Magnus had ever seen. 

**  
In silent agreement, they turned off the bedside lamps, plunging the room into darkness. 

Alec was no stranger to sharing a bed, but he did not know the etiquette of this situation. Should he say good night? If this had been Izzy, he’d say ‘sweet dreams.’ If Jace, maybe just ‘night.’ Or ‘stop being an asshole and give me back my pillow,’ more like. Or if it were – 

No.

Sleep pulled at him to slide away and he wanted to go, but he had to solve this decorum problem first. Unless it had been too long? Was it awkward already?

The blackness of the room had lifted to a deep blue-gray as his eyes adjusted to the starlight – or, more likely, man-made lights – seeping through the apartment through half-closed curtains. He looked around for a moment, memorizing where things were from this new position. The position of lying on Magnus’ bed.

On their bed.

Maybe.

Now it was definitely too late to say goodnight, right?

He turned on his right side, facing Magus who was lying on his back. Was it possible he had fallen asleep already?

Studying the rise and fall of Magnus’ dark-clothed chest against the helpfully light-colored wall behind, Alec decided his bedmate could not possibly be asleep yet. He was breathing far too quickly.

Actually.

He really was breathing fast, though he was somehow doing so without making a sound.

Eyes squinting in concern, Alec watched as Magnus’ chest rose and fell, a tiny bit quicker with every minute that passed.

Maybe it was being in bed with Alec? This was all a lot of newness. Maybe Magnus regretted letting him in the bedroom and was nervous sleeping next to a stranger. Alec probably should be nervous, too.

Funny that he wasn’t.

But he was concerned. He raised himself up a little on his braced right arm, hovering slightly, almost vocalizing a question. Or a concern. Or anything. 

Instead, the silence hung heavier for the lack of pregnant words, and Alec started to shift himself back, further away from Magnus, as close to the edge of the bed as he could get.

Before he could quietly scoot those few inches, Magnus quickly rolled to his own left side and shot his right arm out, grabbing a fistful of Alec’s holey old shirt.

Alec froze. 

This could go many ways.

But Magnus stayed exactly as he was. He did not get closer. He did not push Alec away. He did not try to force more contact. He simply held Alec’s shirt tightly, tight enough that the loose fabric pulled at the side of Alec’s neck. Tight enough that Alec could not move further away without prying those fingers off.

Sharing a bed with Jace had provided countless nights of more discomfort than the feeling of soft cotton straining at his neck, so that was easily ignored.

Since he had frozen up on the whole ‘good night’ option thing, Alec forced himself to go with his instincts now, rather than thinking about his next move for ten minutes until it wouldn’t even make sense to act. He reached out into the dim, murky air soundlessly, hand inching out slowly in case either of them wanted to pull back.

He stilled just in front of Magnus’ chest, looking up towards the other man’s eyes, gleaming colorlessly in the grayscale of the night.

Alec looked back at his hand, forcing it through the last inch of thick air, lightly placing the tip of his pointer finger on Magnus’ shirt, and slowly letting the pad of his finger drag down. Suddenly, as something of a surprise even to himself, his fingers spasmed outward and then pulled in hard, gripping a fistful of Magnus’ tee.

Alec opened his mouth again, to apologize, to ask if this was ok, but nothing came out. Instead, as his furrowed brow focused on the other man’s breathing, he saw it start to slow. Watching the steady decrease in rapid breaths and the gradual increase in how far Magnus’ side raised with each new breath was hypnotizing. 

Without consciously deciding what to do next, sleep overcame him.

**  
Magnus had been half-afraid he’d wake up and find Alexander gone, or that he’d wake up wrapped around the other man like an octopus and cause panic to one or both of them. He’d been prepared to wake up with one of them spooning the other – looked forward to it, almost. He’d considered that they may wake up on the complete opposite edges of the bed from each other, seeking to stay as far away as possible.

He had not considered that they would not move during the night. That he’d wake up still on his left side, stiff from lack of movement, still with his right arm extended.

He had certainly not considered that Alec would have barely moved as well, the only change in their position being that somehow Alexander had captured Magnus’ hand and was currently holding on to it with long fingers, grip surprisingly tight for someone who still appeared to be asleep.

And he had most definitely not considered that Alexander would be using their combined hand sandwich as a pillow, chin resting in the snug space between their joined thumbs.

Magnus had grand plans for getting up and letting his new…partner?...sleep as long as possible. Of making breakfast and allowing amazing smells to waft through the loft. Of getting dressed in scintillating clothes that made him feel self-confident.

Instead, he found himself unwilling to move, and stayed prone among the rumpled blankets in his old plum-colored workout shirt, watching the sunlight move across Alexander’s face, holding his breath as it paused on his eyelashes, caressed his cheekbone, cupped the outer shell of his ear.

He held his laughter as he felt and then saw a bit of drool dribble downward onto their joined hands from the delectable Alec’s definitely snoring mouth.

The Chairman jumped onto Magnus’ legs lightly, weaving himself up between the two men and demanding attention by smashing his head against his owner’s. Wincing as he shifted weight off of the arm he’d been laying on for too long, Magnus rocked back a bit and reached out with his tingling left hand to pet the purring critter.

Instead of slowly coming out of a deep slumber to the ambrosia smells of bacon and pancakes, Alec was abruptly awakened by a cat butt slapping him across the face as the Chairman writhed in pleasure at under-the-chin scritches.

Blinking awake, Alexander let out a puff of air pushed by his tongue, cat hair sticking to his tongue. With a grumble, he let go of Magnus’ hand and scraped his fingers across his long, pink tongue, grimacing as he did so. Apparently satisfied he got it all, he looked around blearily, as though unsure where to wipe off his lovely morning spit/hair combo. 

Smiling for no reason in particular, or perhaps reasons he just did not want to think of, Magnus twisted his achy body over to his nightstand and grabbed a tissue, passing it over. “Good morning, Alexander.”

Wiping his hand on the tissue and half-heartedly trying to evade the Chairman’s head-bashing greeting, he half-glared, “Are you a cheerful morning person? Because that might be a problem.” 

It seemed unwise to admit he’d been awake for some time just looking his fill. “Depends on the day. Hungry?”

“Very.”

They rose and took turns in the bathroom, then ambled into the kitchen and fed the cats, who thankfully stuck to their own bowls, no separation beyond the length of the kitchen necessary. 

Magnus offered, “Oatmeal? Pancakes? Eggs? Toast? Bacon? I have the standards.”

Alec shrugged, “I’m not fussy about food, anything is fine.”

“I appreciate that may be true, but I don’t want either of us treating you as a temporary house guest. Tell me something you like and something you don’t like.” At the mulish look the other man began to send his way, he added, “Please? It would make me feel better.”

Sighing, Alec offered, “I like eggs, we eat a lot of them. I can make them however you like. I don’t like cottage cheese. The texture reminds me of vomit.”

Trying to nod his head seriously without indicating vomit ties may have been an overshare in a breakfast conversation, Magnus opened the stainless steel French door fridge and took out a carton of eggs and the packet of bacon. Handing the eggs over, he said, “Do what you will with them, feel free to use whatever we have.”

Nudging him out of the way, Alec poked through his options, taking out green onions and two red bell peppers along with a chunk of cheddar, the remainder of a bottle of milk and a stick of butter. “Omelets?” 

“That sounds fabulous. Can you actually cook?” He moved to pull a skillet out and start the bacon, finding it easy to share space with Alec without feeling cramped as the other man set to chopping up the peppers and onions.

“Enh. A bit. Certain things. You?”

“I follow recipes well, at least.”

A corner of Alexander’s mouth raised. “Good to know you’re capable of following instructions when you want to.”

Magnus smacked him in the arm with a spatula then brandished it in the other man’s face. “I’m pretty sure that was offensive in some way.”

They finished cooking in companionable silence and moved around to the bar, Magnus adding a stack of toast between them as they sat down to eat with tentative motions and half-apologetic glances as they moved about, afraid of disturbing the other.

Magnus could not remember the last time he ate breakfast with someone in his home.

Sometimes different was needed. 

Sometimes weird was good.

**  
They hadn’t arranged to rent a car or van for the day, so they decided to take Magnus’ empty lime green luggage with them on the subway to Alec’s place to fill up and bring back what they could.

Magnus was excited.

It seemed being around Alexander led to all kinds of excitement he hadn’t felt in ages.

As they emerged from the elevator onto the fifth floor, Alec looked over with apology in his eyes. “I don’t know what you think you’re going to see here, but there’s really not much left.” He opened the door to his apartment and flicked on the light switch, revealing – 

Very little.

Magnus parked his large rolling suitcase by the door and invaded the mostly empty space, avidly snooping. “Did you get robbed?”

“You could say that.”

When Magnus looked up in alarm, Alec clarified, “By my sister. When she moved out, her boyfriend Simon moved out of his mother’s house at the same time, so neither of them had much. I let her take what she wanted.”

Magnus stood in the middle of a decent-sized living space that was entirely empty excepting a black-and-white checked area rug and a small wooden table holding an ugly lamp. “She took your couch? And I presume tv? And…everything?”

“I’ve been working a lot of overtime the last year, I’m not really home to enjoy them anyway.”

Magnus walked over to a small space by the kitchen window, clearly meant for a small table and chairs. He looked up at Alexander in question.

“Yeah, she took the breakfast nook furniture, too, and most of the kitchen stuff.”

Magnus was becoming horrified for more than one reason.

Firstly, why would his own sister take everything and leave him with this nothingness to stare at?

Secondly, exactly how long had it been since she left? He’d gotten the impression it had been weeks. So Alec was just…sitting on the floor in silence by himself? Doing what?

Thirdly, he hoped Alec didn’t like this emptiness. That it wasn’t some kind of extreme Kondo situation. If Alec liked not only no clutter but nothingness in his space, he’d never be happy in Magnus’ stuff-filled space.

At least some of what he was thinking must have been showing on his face. Alexander flushed, and defensively started, “It’s not really like that. She didn’t just take everything and go, like some asshole ex taking everything while I wasn’t home. I offered to buy them new furniture for the apartment and they turned me down but said they’d take anything here I was tired of, so I just – kept giving them stuff and telling them I’d buy new for myself.”

“And why didn’t you?”

Alec half-shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “Didn’t seem worth it.” Eyes averted, he moved further into the space, towards the hallway that led to a number of doors. 

That’s when Magnus realized.

The missing furniture was one thing. But there was nothing personal anywhere. No prints or paintings on the walls, no playbills on the fridge, no cutesy kitchen gadgets or colorful post-it reminders stuck to the counters.

No photos. Not one.

How was it possible that a man who he believed devoted a large portion of his life to raising and caring for his siblings had not one photo of them in the living room or kitchen?

Troubled, he trailed Alexander as he pushed the door closest to the kitchen open. “Izzy’s bedroom,” he announced. This room shows some signs of past life, the walls painted a bright sky blue and a few odd flyers and photos still stuck to the walls. The furniture was gone, but a stack of plastic totes and boxes were stacked against the far wall, carefully labeled with their contents. “I’ll tell her she needs come get the last of her boxes out, I guess.” His voice was carefully neutral. 

Moving on, they passed a small bathroom done in gray tile, then moved to another mostly-empty bedroom with a stack of boxes neatly labeled. The walls here were pale green, and showed evidence of past use – bits of tape stuck up here and there, and small nicks and scratches in the walls and trim showed a room used by someone prone to constant movement. “Jace’s room,” Alec offered.

They moved on. 

Alec flicked on the light switch to the next room, revealing a bed with white sheets and a cream-colored blanket, a dresser with drawers ajar and a desk and bookshelf tucked into a corner. The shelves were overflowing with books and looked about to give out, and there was not enough room to pass between the desk chair and the bed. This room was clearly Alexander’s, and clearly smaller than the other two. 

Why hadn’t he moved into Jace’s room for the additional space if his brother had moved out a year ago? Or turned it into an office space?

Ill at ease, Magnus looked for some signs of life, of joy. For all the bad times he’d had as a child and those he’d had more recently, he had always relied on the small things in his life to help him through the worst of days. The feeling of Chairman’s soft fur under his fingers, photos of smiling friends, hand-written inscriptions in terrifyingly ugly greeting cards, knickknacks that reminded him of vacations past, a Lego Batman throw pillow on his couch that was ridiculous but made him smile every damn day.

Alec had two framed photos on his desk that each featured the same pair of people, assumedly his siblings. His desk was used, full of papers, files, what looked like tax returns and other various financial documents. 

The top of his dresser held deodorant and three mismatched black socks.

There was only one pillow on his bed and it looked well-used. Old. Overly thin.

Magnus believed that Alexander made decent money, he had no reason to doubt the other man’s word on that. Which meant that the state of this apartment had nothing to do with an inability to pay for comfort, and everything to do with his unwillingness to do something for himself.

He was on the verge of attack-hugging Alexander when the other man cleared his throat and paced determinedly away, pointing out two additional doors leading to a small linen closet (largely empty save for some unappealing-looking towels) and a half-bath someone had tried to wallpaper with a blue and gold floral pattern, but had not quite gotten straight.

“So there’s really not much to go through. We can grab some garbage bags I guess and maybe you can go through both bathrooms if you’re comfortable? You can toss whatever you want to, I’m not attached to any of it and Izzy already took what mattered to her.”

Magnus nodded, distantly pleased to be able to ditch subpar product, but still feeling disquiet about the overall state of this silent, lifeless apartment. No wonder Alexander wanted to leave.

Alec headed for the kitchen to get a trash bag, and Magnus noticed one additional door they hadn’t gone into. Another closet maybe? Though the spacing of the doors seemed to indicate it might be big enough for another bedroom. A four-bedroom apartment in New York, this place really should sell fast. “Are you keeping all your dirty secrets hidden away from me, Alexander?” he tried to tease to lighten the mood, moving towards the last unknown room.

Before Magnus could even register the movement, Alec dropped the bags in his hand, bolted towards him and slammed a palm on the door just as Magnus went to open it. 

Freezing at the abrupt violence of the motion, Magnus held himself still for several endless seconds until he was sure Alec wasn’t planning to lunge at anything but the door. Slowly he took his hand off of the doorknob and backed up one, two, three steps, taking care to move softly and with his hands raised and visible.

Realizing Alexander’s focus was still on the door, Magnus dismissed the tendril of alertness that had sprung up at the other man’s wild rush and took the time to take in Alec’s state – muscles so tense they looked ready to burst from his skin, face aimed down to the floor, chest hitching with big, jerky breaths. 

Tilting his head towards Magnus slightly but not reaching his eyes, Alec said in an eerily flat tone, “We do not go in this room.”

Teetering between finding this creepy to the extreme and worry for the pain whatever was behind this door clearly caused his companion, Magnus reached out his hand slowly and used his extended pointer finger to nudge Alexander’s chin up further until their eyes met.

The stony features faded into the background in the overwhelming presence of stormy, turbulent eyes that radiated out pain, heartbreak, agony.

Something was very wrong.

Something very bad had happened.

May still be happening.

Magnus tapped his finger gently against Alec’s chin as he made a fast, instinctive decision. “Okay. I’ll take the bathrooms.” He walked normally (as normal as anyone can walk when their focus is on trying to walk normally) back to the kitchen, grabbed the fallen garbage bag, and went into the full bath, giving Alexander some space, but refusing to leave.

It was the only gesture he could think to make.


	4. Chapter 4

Alec stood with his palm to the door, unable to move as he waited for Magnus to push the issue, to demand to know why this door should not be opened.

Or to leave.

He recognized the return of the feeling he’d been trying to chase away for the last year; the sensation that a ravenous demon had eaten away at part of his chest cavity, that if he was cracked open right now, surgeons would marvel to find there was an empty hollow where his stomach and heart should be, only wilting, blackened lungs remaining as they wheezed a faint but constant resuscitation of oxygen to his body, prolonging never-ending torture.

Not having felt this for the last two days was merely a mirage, an extension of the torture. After all, constant pain did not allow for the heights of misery. One might grow complacent, dull to the damage being done. 

There had to be a little relief at times for the pain to stay fresh.

He heard Magnus grumble and prepared himself for the inevitable rift.

It would be a kindness to let him go quietly.

And a display of weakness he couldn’t tolerate to beg him to stay.

“Alexander,” came a perturbed tone from inside the bathroom, “there is no lotion in this bathroom. Of any kind. Please do not tell me you do not know the importance of keeping your skin hydrated.”

When Alec said nothing, Magnus poked his head out of the room, eyebrow raised. “I’ll take that as its own answer. That’s it. I’m taking over your entire skin care routine.” He ducked back in, yelling, “And I don’t want to hear any guff about it!”

Guff?

Magnus kept muttering to himself with the frequent addition of a rustling sound as he chucked items in the garbage bag with abandon. 

Alec began to feel stupid plastered against a door no one was trying to enter. He shifted away, shaking out arms that had been too tense for too long. Slowly drifting towards the open bathroom door, he paused to stare for a moment, moving on only when Magnus looked up, an unrecognizable expression blaring out from piercing brown eyes.

He felt off-kilter.

Back in his bedroom, he made quick work of throwing the rest of his clothes in suitcases, packing handfuls of books in wherever they fit while his mind raced through too many snippets of thoughts to focus on any one in particular. He wrapped the two pictures of Izzy and Jace in an old green sweater, placing them in the center of a pile of other old, shapeless sweaters for protection and closing his eyes for a moment to picture the photos that lived behind the shots the frames showed to the world.

Sometimes the easiest place to hide something was right behind something you look at every day. Living with teenagers taught him that trick.

Depressingly fast, he was done packing up everything in his room and wheeled the suitcases out towards the door, turning back to the kitchen as Magnus emerged from the half bath with a full black garbage bag. 

“Does it sound wrong if I found nothing to salvage in either bathroom?” Magnus mused.

“S’okay,” Alec muttered, then realized he sounded unintentionally sullen. He tried to be better. “Can you go through the kitchen with me fast, see if there’s anything left here that you don’t have at your place?”

Magnus’ left eyebrow shot up as he strode straight up and poked a finger to Alec’s chest. “And where do you live?”

Alec almost smiled. “Sorry, anything that’s not already at our place.”

“Hmph,” Magnus replied, sliding past him and moving into the kitchen.

**

The subway ride back was quiet. Though the car was relatively full, people made sure to shift to make a little extra room for two tall men with pensive expressions dragging heavy lime green suitcases behind them.

They hadn’t quite emptied the entire apartment, but only because of the weight of books – a second trip another day should let them finish clearing those out, or at least the ones Alec cared about.

Encased in a small bubble of their own, Magnus stood behind Alec, one hand reaching around behind him to hold on to the vertical bar for balance. If Alec leaned back, he’d be pressed right into the length of Magnus’ arm.

He could almost feel the warmth hovering there, just waiting. He doubted Magnus would mind. He only had to take this opportunity for himself.

He didn’t move back.

But he thought about it.

They stayed quiet as they got off the train and made their way back to Magnus’ apartment – their apartment. Hopefully still theirs, assuming this silence did not indicate regret on Magnus’ part.

**

They ordered sandwiches in for lunch and ate at the kitchen bar off of the wrappers the food came in. 

“Moving you didn’t take nearly as long as I’d expected,” Magnus finally said, breaking another silence. “What do you want to do this afternoon with this rare day of freedom?” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken an entire day off. 

Alec looked startled, as though deciding what to do with free time was a novel concept to him as well. “Honestly, I have nothing to do. You spent the morning helping me, what do you want to do?”

Magnus licked honey mustard off the corner of his mouth and contemplated his choices. “I need to do laundry, get groceries, and go get the mail downstairs, it’s been at least a week since I checked it.”

“Okay,” Alec agreed amiably.

“But I don’t want to do any of those things.”

“Okay,” Alec shrugged. “So what, then?”

Magnus pondered, and came up with the least imaginative idea ever. “TV.”

“TV?”

“TV.”

“Uh, okay.” Alec balled up his lunch wrapper and headed to the garbage, snagging Magnus’ as he went. “Should I leave?”

“Why would you need to leave if my plan is watching TV?”

“I dunno, you said it kind of weird. I thought maybe you wanted quiet.”

“You can’t be quiet and watch TV?”

“Honestly, I haven’t bothered trying to watch anything in…a long time.” 

Magnus felt he was losing the other man to introspection that did not look happy nor healthy. “You didn’t have a television, so that does make sense. But over half the point of the TV watching concept was to watch with you.”

Alexander shot him an incredulous look. “Why?”

Magnus stood up and walked over to his comfortable couch, dropping onto the left side. He lazily picked up the remote and started searching, not looking for anything in particular, entirely ignoring Alec who hovered near the kitchen.

They could talk all they wanted. Talking was good. They should talk more. And maybe sometimes, part of that talking would be clear requests. ‘I need you to…’ type of requests. 

But not right now.

All he really wanted was to sit next to this dumbass. On the couch. Watching TV.

But damn if he’d ask for that.

It felt weak to want. To ask.

Magnus was aware he was being stupid, but in that moment decided he did not care. Either Alec would come over and sit on the right side of the damn couch or…he wouldn’t. 

It felt like a hold-your-breath type of moment. A this-might-change-everything pause as they both, again, recommitted to this perhaps foolish idea of binding themselves to each other.

Or maybe this time, the decision would be different.

Alec walked into Magnus’ view, blocking the screen for a moment before he sighed.

In true Alexander fashion, he did not choose one of the two options available to him, but came up with a surprising additional choice and plopped down not on the right side of the couch, but smack in the middle, shoulder and upper arm colliding with Magnus’ and staying put, firmly pressed against him.

Magnus may have stared at him for a moment. 

Alec shrugged again. “I hate a lot of shows.”

Sure, that explained everything. “I like a lot of shows that I never have time to watch.”

“I have this feeling your favorites are all things I hate.”

“Way to get into the spirit of things, Alexander,” Magnus said dourly, but his spirits kept rising. He flicked through show after show, pausing on some to gauge the level of hatred that may be spewn at it, and on others purely to amuse himself watching his companion tense to protest, but moved on before it could become a real issue.

Alec clearly did not like the concept of reality TV. Any reality TV.

Finally, Magnus gave up the torture Alexander game and selected something, tossing the remote on the table as the opening scene appeared.

“What is this?” Alec asked, already sounding prepared for an argument.

“West Wing. You’ll like it.”

“It looks old?”

“Don’t be a snob, it’s maybe 20 years old. They have cell phones.”

“Yeah, big clunky cell phones.”

As they continued to bicker, it occurred to Magnus that this may actually be how Alexander had learned to communicate at home. It may even indicate that he was comfortable. He could picture that – Alec providing negative ballast in conversations with his siblings, all of them constantly snarking at each other. He seemed quite content as he mocked what now seemed like over-large suits and ties.

“Skinny ties didn’t become popular again until after this show started. And it seems plausible White House staff wouldn’t have time to keep up with current fashion trends anyway. Especially if they’re doing their actual jobs.”

Alec snorted and continued his nitpicking, the haunted look that had been with him since Magnus almost opened the wrong door slowly dissipating into the sunlight-strewn room. As he relaxed, he slumped further against Magnus, losing the ridiculous(ly intriguing) rigid posture he often adopted.

Fuck it.

It was time to ask for something. 

Or maybe inform. Was informing better?

He interrupted a diatribe on some lawyerly non-fact to state, “One of us is laying down. I don’t care which one, but there will be a head-in-lap situation shortly.”

Crickets.

Huge hazel eyes.

Okay, not the best choice of words.

“Come on, you know what I mean. Slide down or slide over.” He refused to blush, and was moderately successful.

Alec slowly moved to the right, sliding his arm away from Magnus’. The removal of that comforting pressure encouraged Magnus to follow the warmth, stretching out and seeking the heat of Alec’s body. He positioned himself carefully, splitting the difference between facing the screen and facing upwards so that he could track the expressions of his new friend.

Slowly, Alexander unfroze. Quietly, he asked, “Are we going out tonight?”

Magnus could not imagine why that question was pertinent right now, unless… “I hadn’t planned on it.”

“Okay.” Alec pretended to watch the next West Wing scene unfold, but was too quiet to be paying much attention. He shifted a little. “Can I - ?” Question too foreign to form, he tentatively pushed his fingers into Magnus’ hair.

Well.

If that wasn’t adorable. 

If he followed that non-conversation, Alexander had been checking first to make sure Magnus wouldn’t have to go through the work of styling his hair again if they went out tonight before he asked to wreck it.

He meant to issue that recognition of sweet intent aloud.

What came out was a raspy, “Please.” It wasn’t begging.

It wasn’t.

He burrowed into Alexander’s lap, lost in the sensation of fingers firmly pulsing against his scalp, sometimes holding a strand of hair between the pads of his thumb and pointer finger and just sliding up and down, up and down.

It was hypnotic.

It was erotic.

It was so, so sleep-inducing.

The antics and impassioned speeches of the West Wing crew floated over them as Alexander and Magnus huddled in their shared presence. Magnus felt warm. He felt wanted. He felt cared for.

Magnus felt.

**

There was something wrong with his very being. He was broken, or used up, or disturbingly, differently wrong. 

Alec looked down as he lightly traced a strand of Magnus’ black hair from root to tip, part of him marveling at the sensation of it against the pad of his finger, at being allowed to do this, as being asked to do this.

And yet part of him was still thinking about the apartment they left behind. About the memories behind that closed door. About his abject failure at his only real purpose in life. 

He didn’t deserve to be warm and comfortable, reverently stroking a beautiful man’s hair to self-sooth. He deserved to be cold, uncomfortably wet, miserable in his lost thoughts.

Trying to exist between the two contrasting mindsets was taking a toll, and the water was winning, pulling him back down into the void, creeping up over his mouth and then smothering his nose, righteously taking away his ability to breathe.

The floating nightmare sense of unreality started to take hold again, but as he began to lose himself to it, Magnus turned, looking up at Alec’s dead face, and then rolled over to his other side, pushing his face into Alec’s belly.

Then Magnus huffed a slow, hot breath.

A shiver overcame Alec, starting at that humid warmth and extending in all directions until it reached the tips of his fingers, the ends of his toes, and the top of his scalp.

Shit. How was it possible to go from falling into a depressive pit of no return to almost orgasming in five seconds?

“You’re magical,” he muttered unintentionally aloud.

He felt Magnus’ smile against his abs and reached out his arms without thinking, the left going around Magnus’ back for support and the right returning to his hair.

Magnus pulled back a bit and looked up, resting the side of his head on Alec’s thigh. “Thank you, Alexander.”

“Sure. Really confused why, though?”

“For sitting with me when you’d probably rather be up and moving around. I have a feeling you find it easier to escape your demons when you’re on your feet. But this is helping me a great deal.”

There were many things that Alec wanted to say. How surprised he was that he could be useful. How grateful he was for Magnus’ presence, and seemingly preternatural sense of timing. That he was right about movement sometimes helping. But because he had a bad relationship with voiced words when Magnus was around, what came out was, “You know, I’m really smart.”

Awkward pause.

Then Magnus dove forward, face pressed against Alec’s stomach again as he dissolved into laughter he tried to disguise as a cough. Poorly.

“I meant,” Alec soldiered on, red creeping up his neck, “You make me feel like an idiot.” Shit, that definitely wasn’t what he was going for, either.

Magnus jerked back in concern. “I don’t - ”

Alec used his big hand to palm his entire face, sighing into the momentary darkness. He tried again. “You put me in a classroom or a boardroom or a courtroom where I know what I’m doing and I can own that room. But I don’t know how to do…” he waved his hand around in the air, gesturing weakly at Magnus, the couch, the apartment, “…this. I don’t have intelligence in this.”

It wasn’t what he really meant to say, but it was better than the first two attempts.

“I don’t want to screw this up. I don’t want to disappoint you,” he added, in case that wasn’t clear.

Magnus rolled to his back, head still on Alec’s lap, impossibly old eyes staring straight up to meet Alec’s gaze. He reached a hand up slowly and traced three fingers down Alec’s cheek with aching gentleness. “It’s been a long time since anyone cared if they disappointed me. That thought even occurring to you is more than I’ve been used to in a long time. The bar is low here, don’t worry so much, okay?”

“You need higher standards.”

Magnus shrugged. “You are my higher standards.”

Alec huffed. “We’re doomed.”

Magnus smiled. “We’ll see.”


End file.
